Burlesque
by Poisonous
Summary: She laughed then, "Do you think you are taking advantage of me?"


There is no prelude.

Her skin is dappled by the sunlight; lips quirked upwards, blatantly burlesque. Her dress is an artwork; bodice a stabbing hue of crimson coupled with rows upon rows of rubies complimented by a singular row of pearls, strewn across her collarbone, an invitation in disguise, drawn to the center of some strange, compromising gravity; the curve of her breasts.

There is treachery in her mouth and he cares not. He longs to kiss her and gather her in her arms as only a lover would, and embarrassed with himself he turns his eyes away from her profile.

"Hagi," her voice is soft and quite, an anomaly for her boisterous and supercilious persona. "I wish you had brought the cello, it would have been lovely to hear you play here, in the middle of the river underneath the shade of the passing trees."

"I'm sorry," he says without pause, an automatic, familiar phrase in the contours of his mouth. And yet, he scarce means it. Every time he plays the cello he imagines that he is playing her, touching her every curve with the familiarity of a master musician. He is ashamed but he's too enamored and too logical to imagine an escape from the lust that haunts every moment he lounges in her presence. There is something more as well, something far more dangerous. Instant gratification is not the only thing he imagines her for; there is a greater purpose for them.

"I wish I could sing," she says wistfully. "It would be romantic, wouldn't it? The both of us here, alone, and I would sing for you --," she pauses, cheeks reddened and a proud, hopeful smile tugs at his lips. " -- if we were other people of course. But we're not, so that's not for us."

The smile vanishes.

"Lapping through all this water, so cool and clear makes me thirsty, Hagi."

"Would you like some water," he offers, gripping the pole tightly, putting a halt to the boat. She opens her mouth a little to say something but settles with a shake of her head.

"No, water is so bland. And it's too early for some wine, there is no occasion for it anyway. I would take a swim here but I can't, especially since you are here."

The last was said with a dimpled smile but that hidden by her sinfully long lashes which drew his attention away.

"I don't see why not," he says with an amused smile at her instantaneous shock. "You used to ask me to dress you, don't you remember?"

"But that was before," she says hastily. "Now you're all ... grown up, and it is unfit for you to dress me."

"Why," he asks even though he knows exactly why. She doesn't answer.

"It's so hot Hagi, the breeze is all gone," she pauses for a moment and looks at him, brown meeting blue. "Would you mind if I took off this bothersome skirt -- I have one underneath, this one is just for show. I just wish I could take of this ridiculous bodice, I can hardly breathe. But I don't have anything underneath that so that's impossible."

His words are strangled in his throat because he can't help but mentally undress her with his eyes.

"Alright then," she says with unveiled enthusiasm. "I thought I was going to die with this on," she smoothes her skin down her legs unveiling a more modest, satin skirt. "And I was nearly going to faint with this one," she unlaces her bodice at the top so that the swell of her breasts is more apparent but all her modesty is intact. "I hope you're not embarrassed by this."

"No," but his voice is uneasy.

"Oh Hagi, I'm so bored with everything!" She smiles at him and his heart warms foolishly. "I'm so tired of walking in the gardens or pacing around my chambers, I want to see the world! I want to meet other people --" Then a flutter of her eyelashes and a wan smile. "Meet other boys who aren't as stubborn as you are."

"I'm not stubborn," he protested.

"Yes you are! You don't want to dress me, you can't really play the cello --" At this he wanted to intervene but refrained himself. "-- and besides, I want to be kissed and all that other stuff grownups do. I don't want to be alone forever." She smiled wistfully. "I want to have children and pick roses with them and go on boats and teach them how to lap water too." Her voice grew quiet, apologetic. "I'm sorry if I'm boring you but I have no one else to tell this to. I wish I had a sister so we could talk about marriage and of course," There it was, that coquettish movement in her lips. "Our husbands."

There is a certain restriction in his heart and an ache.

"Saya," and she looks at him expectantly.

"Yes?"

There are too many words and too little time and everything he wants to say he will regret. I want to kiss you and I want to -- how vulgar! -- fuck you, and I want you to be mine; all fight for dominance. He is in love with her and every part of him burns to say it. Her flirtations do not assist him and he wonders if she is simply toying with him. There are nights when he cannot sleep thinking of her, analyzing and dissecting her words for hidden meaning. Is she trying to express what he cannot using synonyms and metaphors? Is she hiding behind adjectives and irrelevant verbs? Does she love him?

It's too dangerous to ask. Too dangerous to want. To dangerous to hope.

"Hagi, kiss me."

He looks at her like a man possessed.

"What?" He manages.

"Just to know what it feels like," she blushes a bit. "Just for a moment."

He wants to tell her, warn her, that if he begins he won't stop. But all he can do is look at her with her pretty little smile and her flushed cheeks, and nod because he's never disobeyed her and he sure as hell won't start now.

She stands and the boat sways a bit which causes her to fall into him, and all he can think of is how perfectly she fits against him. She smells of roses, unsurprisingly.

"Alright," she says indignantly as if she's about to charge an impossible task. "I think you have to--"

But he doesn't want to hear because some part of him beats with the knowledge, radiates with it and it is this that makes him take her up, his hand on her waist and the other on her face and pull her flush against him, her lips on his immediately. There's fatal charge between them, sparks that rise and fall and explode.

The kiss does not break him, it is when she moans that he loses restraint.

Because now they are not kissing. Now they are biting and nipping and tasting and clinging. Now she is smiling and they are experts seconds after being novices. She is saying his name and her breath sounds a little run out and he smiles because she's not pulling away, there is no sting on his face, no repulsion. She wants him as much as he wants her and its comforting.

The kiss ends, and her lips look almost bruised and he can't pull himself away from her. Not even when she looks a bit uncomfortable because they are pressed so tightly together that they might as well be one.

"That was," she struggles with the words. "That was ... ah ... well, it was very ... um ... interesting. Yes, interesting. Not so bad."

She means to tease him, he can see it in her eyes, but when she looks at him the intensity hits her and she stops. There was passion and not even she can deny it.

"You asked me kiss you so I did," he reaffirms because she looks a bit shocked.

"I know," she takes a long breath, not looking at him. "And it was nice -- lovely. Really, really lovely."

Her voice is all quiet and breathy and it makes him ache for her all over again.

"Hagi, the boat is sinking."

He looks at her with confusion and then his gaze darts to the boat, and the intruding water.

"Oh."

"Oh," she agrees.

"I think I might have to kiss you in order to save us."

He caught her dimpled smile again as she answered; "Is that so?"

"Yes."

"I think you might be right, but Hagi, I really don't want to sink --"

But her words die on her lips as they kiss again and his nimble fingers undo her hair and she's pressed against him so he can feel her heartbeat and how it flutters in adolescent excitement.

Strangely, in the back of his mind, he tastes faint metallic in her mouth but dismisses it. His fingers thread through her hair and her arms are around his neck, but then his hands wander to her bodice, to the laces one quart done.

"Hagi what are you doing," she demands as she pulls away, all flushed, clutching her bodice to herself as if defending herself from him.

"I have no idea," he answers truthfully.

"Just -- just because I asked you to kiss me once does not mean that you can take advantage of me!" Furious, she stomped her foot as she usually did when she threw a tantrum but unfortunately this was not the mansion and the floor, feeble already, broke through. She shrieked as the hole widened and the water gushed in, soaking her feet further.

"Throw me your skirt."

"I am not undressing I already told --"

"To stop the flooding!"

"Oh!"

Slightly embarrassed, Saya threw Hagi her discarded skirt and shirked away from the hole. Hagi plugged the hole, successfully stopping the flooding.

"Please come to this side, Saya, if you stay to that side the floor may give away more. I'm afraid your skirt won't be able to keep that water from coming in. And if the boat sinks we will have to swim ashore."

Indignantly, Saya looked at the hole between them and concluded that she'd need his help to cross over. Hagi offered his hands and she took them but not without trembling. Those hands had a habit of going where they weren't invited.

But what had she been thinking? She might as well have thrown herself at him! It wasn't as if she was blind to his looks, looks that made her heart rate alarming, but nonetheless; she was a young lady, a proper one at that, and he was ...

Handsome, charming, an (annoyingly) talented musician, and a wonderful kisser. (Not that she had much to compare it to.)

Her lips were set in a thin line. No more kissing. No more touching. She needed to get back to the mansion to her bed chambers. To the gardens. Away from him at all costs.

But she didn't want to, not really. She was so fond of him. It began little after he was a boy and they had worked out their ... ahem ... differences. They had become very good friends and although she envied his skill with the cello she loved to hear him play. He obeyed her every command without protest except when she was blatantly outrageous. Most of those times she asked ridiculous things just to see him raise his eyebrow in a very aristocratic manner. It made her laugh. He made her laugh.

She loved to hear him laugh, best of all.

He took her up in his arms again, as there was no room for her to stand separately and her heart beat began to pick up again. He smelled like books and the ruffles on his shirt (as ordered by her) ticked her nose.

He was really quite gorgeous, actually.

While she had never seen another man (beside Joel and that was out of the question), she had always known how to praise beauty. In roses, in music -- he was beautiful.

Too much.

"Hand me the pole, Saya, it will be uncomfortable but I shall have to navigate with you in my arms."

"Alright," Saya answered. "Hagi?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

The boat and Hagi's heart stopped simultaneously.

"Saya?"

"I didn't tell you to stop," she said sternly but her voice was soft. "I want to get home. Keep going."

"Alright," Hagi answered but his voice was just as soft. The boat continued. "Saya?"

"Yes?"

"I shall very much like to kiss you again."

Saya smiled but Hagi did not see. Her pride -- he thought she was beautiful to even though she was brash and commanding and childish at times -- allowed her smugness.

"I know."

Silence.

"Oh, and Hagi?"

"Yes?"

"I want you to undress me when we get home. To undo the laces in the back. They tend to be very difficult."

"The laces," Hagi affirmed.

"Were you hoping for more, Hagi?" Saya teased.

"No."

But they were laughing without laughing.

* * *

When they got to the mansion there was absolute silence. Joel was in his study -- did he ever come out? -- and the maids had long retired. In her chambers, Saya sat facing her vanity. Her hair was still undone -- it looked quite the mess -- and her broach had been left on the boat. She was regretting her invitation to Hagi to undo her laces -- did she ever think before she spoke? -- but it was too late. If she played her cards well enough her invitation would be completed without any consequences.

But she had told him that she loved him. She was so impulsive!

And just when she was about to recriminate herself some more her door opened.

He was immaculate, as always. Saya fingered her hair self consciously.

"Hagi," Saya smiled.

"I've come to undress you."

Well, that sounded unavoidably harlequin.

"Ah ... right."

Saya stood from her vanity, averting her gaze and then stood before him.

"Be careful, they are fragile. And please place them on my vanity after you are done. Oh and tell me when you're up to the last one, I need to hold up my stays or they'll fall as soon as you pull out the laces."

Hagi looked as if he was contemplating her warning with some interest.

"Hagi," she eyed him suspiciously.

"Please turn around."

She did so. His fingers were absolutely wonderful as they brushed against her skin every once in a while in feather touches.

"Saya?"

She was in a delicious haze; "Hmm?"

"I've reached the last ribbon."

"Oh."

She sounded, in Hagi's opinion, very uncaring.

"Saya I'm going to pull the ribbon now."

Hagi tugged at the ribbon but as it was about to pull itself from its loophole when Saya collapsed into his arms. Conserving her modesty, Hagi pulled up her strays to her chest, but it was undone and left her back exposed.

"Hagi I'm feeling very strange."

"You didn't drink your tea today."

Saya nodded almost deliriously.

"Hagi?"

"Let me lay you on your bed and call a doctor."

"No, don't go," Saya smiled at him but Hagi was too overcome with worry to notice. "I'm feeling better now."

"I'll go get you your tea."

"No, that's alright. It's always tasted rather strange anyway. I'd rather taste you."

And then she kissed him. It was more a brush of lips since she still had a delirious quality to her.

"Saya, you aren't well," Hagi protested as she brushed her lips against his again. "This is not right."

She laughed then, "Do you think you are taking advantage of me?"

Her eyes looked curiously bright.

She pressed herself to him, the gravity holding her stays up.

"You always do everything I tell you to," She eyed him with a smile. "And now that I'm asking you to do something I know you want to do -- you asked to kiss me, remember -- you disobey. You_ are _strange."

"Saya," Hagi began but he was smiling. "Are you quite sure you're all right?"

"Yes, now do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Pull away from me."

"But your stays," Hagi protested.

"Let them fall," Saya replied. "They really are uncomfortable as well. I don't understand the point of pushing up breasts anyway. I assume all men know they're there, they really do not need any visual proof. Although I supposed its all part of the seduction -- I hope you don't think I've been trying to seduce _you _all this time. Joel insists I dress this way and all my clothing is imported so I have no choice. The only advantage I see in all the ridiculous clothing I wear is the undressing. It must be great fun for a man to undress a woman."

She was babbling and he was finding it very interesting.

"Saya, where did you learn all of this?"

"Books," she chirped. "Marvelous things really."

"Oh."

But Hagi was not thinking of books at all.

"Are you sure about this," he asked again, tentatively.

"Are you having scruples," Saya asked him. "Or are you just inexperienced?"

Hagi always knew there was something odd about her -- and this just affirmed it. What sort of girl who had never seen the outside word conversed as if she was a French courtesan?

"Books?"

Saya nodded with a wicked smile.

"Especially the romance novels. They are kind enough to give plenty of detail. Why Joel would keep such things in his library is beyond me but it's quite entertaining. All men are rouges. They'll say anything to get a woman into bed."

Hagi was red in the face, he could just feel it.

"If you hadn't been brought here to keep my company you'd probably be one of those rouges. Imagines it, it has an adventurous quality to it Hagi -- women fawning over you, falling at your every word, swooning at your every stare."

"I think that would be quite frightening, actually." Hagi began to redo her laces in the back. He had to keep her talking. She'd kill him afterward if they continued. "It makes you initial indifference quite welcoming."

"Hagi, what are you doing? Are you dressing me? Why would you do that after undressing me -- you really make no sense. Besides, I'm a woman and I'm sure that at this point in my life," she seemed to be contemplating her years for a moment and he wanted to point out that there really couldn't be all that many. "I'm supposed to have some experience with this. I can't imagine going to bed with my husband a virgin."

"I thought that was a good thing," Hagi stated.

Saya shot him a strange look; "You would want your wife to know how to ... how do they say it ... please you?"

Hagi raised one eyebrow; "You really need to stop reading those books."

She beamed at him.

"You seem to be unusually forward," Hagi gulped as Saya began to undo her ribbons. "I think you need to sleep this ... ah ... attitude off."

"Nonsense! I won't go to bed until you ... well, ah, they have so many words for it."

"Really?" Hagi inquired.

"Ravish, make love to, love in general, consummate, and so on."

"Well I won't be ravishing or making love to you or consummating anything tonight."

He took her to her bed and lay her there.

"Sleep, Saya."

"Won't you at least kiss me goodnight?" She looked positively tempting, half undressed on her bed. But she had given him a request and so he obeyed.

"Goodnight, Saya."

His steps out her chambers were heavy as lead. He would get no sleep tonight.

* * *

Joel looked extremely disturbed when Hagi told him that Saya had not drunk her tea and furthermore, of her erratic behavior. Hagi excluded some details of course (the kissing), but was as straightforward as best he could.

"Bring her, her tea as soon as she wakes. If anyone can make her do something it is you, Hagi. I know she can be impossible at times."

"Not at all, sir."

Joel looked at him strangely for a moment and then handed him Saya's tea.

"Hagi, be careful."

Hagi's gaze narrowed a bit, wondering what danger he could possibly be. Joel shot him an apologetic look.

"Saya can be, ah, predatory at times."

And didn't he know it.

* * *

She was a bit strange, Hagi conceded as he handed Saya her tea. She looked disgruntled, lost, she didn't even mention last night. In fact, she looked wild.

She gulped her tea with some rapidness, and it stained the corners of her mouth.

"That was good," she said after a moment and a wipe of her lips. "I was really, really thirsty." She looked at him with a smile; "You were starting to look good enough to drink."

Hagi didn't know what to say to that.

"I don't really remember what happened after we go ashore, Hagi. I feel kind of dizzy. Did I faint?"

"Yes."

It was better that way.

"I had the most delicious dream," she looked away from him, cheeks tinted red. He had a faint idea what the dream was of.

"Would you like to go with me to the gardens today, Hagi? I'd love to fall asleep in the shade but I need someone to look over me."

He would look over her, he decided, but it would be under different circumstances. It would be on a bed and she would be --

"Hagi?"

"Ah, yes, of course. Are you ready?"

"Of course not silly! I need to bathe and get dressed and then go."

"I will wait for you, then."

"Good, now get out -- unless you'd like to help me that is?"

Hagi raised an eyebrow; "Bathe and dress?"

"Yes."

Hagi sighed inwardly. She was really, really awful if she was aware of what she was doing.

"If you so request it of me," Hagi stated, as nonchalantly as he could.

"How terrible of you! Taking advantage of a young lady like me."

But she was flirting.

"Well then, let's hurry, I want to make it to the gardens before noon."

"You were serious," Hagi inquired as carefully as possible.

"Absolutely."

She had the same smile as before. And somehow he knew he'd been had. The clever little girl. She called in a maid to fill the tub, all the while smiling at him.

"Young man, please exit the room while the lady bathes." The maid chided.

"Oh, no," Saya said all smiles. "He's helping me."

The maid looked from her to Hagi and then walked away muttering about indiscretions. Hagi was overcome by humiliation and desire.

"Close your eyes while I undress," Saya instructed so he did. He heard the smoothing down of ruffles and her stays and then her descend into the tub.

"Alright then, open your eyes."

Her hair was over her shoulders, her body hidden by the height of the marble tub. There was a curling at the ends of her lips, seduction at its best.

"Hagi."

"Saya."

There was so much magnetism. He drew himself to her side and his eyes were on her face, unable to look upon her body. Because she was offering herself. He knew it. But he couldn't believe it.

"Hagi, what are you waiting for?"

"You do remember."

"Remember what?"

"Yesterday."

"No, take the cloth there," she nodded towards a white cloth at the end of the tub. "And pass it over my skin. Very gently."

He took the cloth -- his fingers were slightly trembling -- and began at her shoulders. He lingered at her collarbone and she closed her eyes and she bent forward. There, she clutched her knees to her chest almost like a child. He descended down her spine, and then rose up again to brush the cloth against her arms. But his eyes were closed -- he was unworthy. He must have gone off the path because her voice rose the next instant.

"Do you have your eyes closed, Hagi?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He was about to answer her but then he felt her cool lips upon his.

"You still have your eyes closed," she was smiling through their kiss. "Wont you look at me while you kiss me?"

"Saya you cannot mean it."

"I mean it. Oh, I love you Hagi! Don't you love me?"

And then his eyes flew open and he was kissing her with such fervor that she gasped. Her body was so slender against his fingers, he never imagined she'd feel so soft and pliable. He raised her up until her body met his and his hands were around her waist, hauling her out of the tub.

"Saya," he kissed her collarbone. "Saya."

He could only say her name as he kissed her arms and rose up again to kiss her eyelids and her lips very softly. He didn't dare to go any further although his body burned for her in a way he never imagined. It was scorching. Her body, wet against his clothing was more arousing than anything he'd ever experienced.

"Hagi," Saya protested, eyes meeting his. "You're going too slow. Don't you want me?"

"Yes," he whispered, voice hoarse. "Yes."

He never imagined that kissing was painful. But his lips were on hers so violently that it hurt. His hands were at her hips, at her back, pushing her into him as best as he could.

"You have to take your clothes off, silly." She said but her voice was an octave lower.

"I've never done this before, Hagi," she said softly. "Have you -- oh, of course not. You were brought here so very young." She kissed him. "I'm so very sorry, so sorry."

He wasn't sorry. Not when she was tugging at his clothes and his hands were at her thighs. Especially not when his hands found her breasts and he realized why stays were in demand. Why men were caught by the blatant invasion of the preview. She moaned against his lips when he kissed each breast, and then the underside. His mouth traveled to her abdomen, and he traced routes down the flat plane. He kissed down and down until he was there and she broke away from him.

She was scandalized now?

"You can't kiss there," she said, now a true virgin. "Not there."

"Alright," he said and his hands were on her again. He could go on forever touching her and kissing her with her eyes half open and her mouth whispering his name feverishly. But they weren't doing anything. There was more to be done and he could feel it.

He was hard.

This fact usually brought embarrassment but he realized that the situation called for it. All of the nights when he had nothing to do but want and wish and now he had her, in his arms, ready and willing.

And she was willing.

Hagi kissed her breast again and she sighed and then he licked. She gasped so suddenly that he was alarmed.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," she smiled at him and then claimed his mouth again. "I don't know what we're supposed to do. I hope you know because I need something and I don't know what."

He knew what it was, the same thing he needed.

He wanted to bury himself so deeply in her that there would be no tearing them apart.

"Oh, Hagi," she cried out when he kissed the inside of her thigh. "Oh."

"Can I kiss here?"

He kissed her deeper inside, almost touching the soft patch of curls.

"Hmm," she said as she bent over him. She felt absolutely boneless. Everywhere he touched there was fire. Her heart was beating so wildly but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything.

"Hagi," she asked while he made his way upwards again.

"Yes?"

"Stop."

"_What?_"

He looked like a little boy who had just been taken away a favorite toy and it almost made Saya laugh but she kept it inside. He was doing all the work and it wasn't fair.

She needed foreplay.

"I don't think I want to do this anymore," she tore herself away from him, momentarily admiring his body before wrapping herself in a coverlet from the bed.

It was so amusing to see him open his mouth and then close it again. He had no words.

He settled for; "Why?"

"It hurts," Saya confessed, voicing a real fear. "I know it does."

Hagi was confused. A minute ago she had been compliant to his touches and now she was denying the entire activity altogether. She looked so frightened that his desire dissolved into worry. If there anything he would never inflict upon her, it was pain.

He made his way to the bed and took her up in his arms so that her back was against him and kissed her hair very softly.

"I'm sorry."

The coverlet was still against her but it was thin and he could feel her body through it. He was surprised to find that he was just content, holding her, when moments prior he had been hell bent on doing far more.

She relaxed against him and wound her arms around him, seeking protection.

Inwardly, Saya was cursing in a very un-lady like manner. This was not how it was supposed to go! She was supposed to play innocent and he was supposed to seduce her some more. Instead he had reacted in a very Hagi-like manner and opted for conformity. What was she supposed to do now?

Hagi solved her problem.

He started kissing her neck, but more habitually than anything. Saya shifted so she was facing him and his eyes met hers and she smiled again. She could not help it. The mere sight of him made her ridiculously happy. Whenever he was away running errands for Joel she became depressed and irate. (More than usual, that is.)

"You make me really mad, you know."

Hagi was even more lost. She was telling him that he made her upset but she was smiling. Maybe he should give up.

"I don't understand."

"Exactly."

Was there something he wasn't seeing? He felt like a complete idiot.

"Hagi, have you ever heard of foreplay?"

"No."

Saya frowned at him which made him thinking he said the wrong thing.

"It's when two people are about to --" she blushed a bit, "You know. Anyway, to make it more exciting they use foreplay."

"I still don't understand."

Then she let out a routine frustrated sigh.

"They tease each other, Hagi. Please tell me you get it now."

Hagi thought about it. And then realization dawned upon him. He raised one eyebrow very wryly.

"Saya," he let out a long sigh that he had been holding inside. "You do realize there's no need for you to exert yourself in an area where you have no experience. Experience is gained. Remember when you began teaching me how to play the cello --"

But she was kissing him again letting out a muffled; "You talk too much."

Things were much easier now that the only thing between them was the coverlet. But Hagi still had in mind what she said about pain and he decided that he would keep in control.

But it was hard. In so many ways. He was on top of her and she was so small under him that he was afraid he would crush her with his weight. It was amazing how easily he hardened. Just a brush with her thigh and the excitement was there again. It was more comfortable now that they were on a mattress and not vertical.

He began leaving open mouthed kisses, beginning from her neck to her breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth, biting softly. Her breath was erratic now and she was writhing, it was hard to pin her down. Her legs were twisting, brushing against his, her lip caught between her teeth, her eyes shut. She tried to clutch at him but her grip was weak.

Just watching her hardened him more; the way her mouth opened and closed, trying to form words that escaped her. Suddenly her eyes flew open and she grabbed his face with conviction and said in an almost-sob; "Hagi, _please_."

Her hands tangled in his hair as he nuzzled her collarbone, raising himself to eye level with her. Her eyes were bright and red and waiting. His leg went between hers and came away wet. He smiled then, and enjoyed the moment of stillness between them, a communication that ran deep and livid. Then, he thrust into her.

Her mouth opened to scream but no sound came out. Her heart stopped and her body gave away. She was dying, her lungs collapsing, her blood cells halting. She was fighting and dying, a million swords buried inside of her; sleep and loneliness eating away at her. A brilliant moment of clarity where she was the killer and there was an insatiable thirst that commanded her, an addiction to death, an affinity for madness.

Then she took a long, crushing breath and the world came alive again. The sensation was so overwhelming that all she could do was clutch at him blindly, nails digging into his skin. Her body was convulsing, the silence overcome with sounds of skin sliding against skin. The tears leaked out of her eyes, unbidden, and he kissed them away, still inside of her.

She didn't understand.

He was there, she felt the invasion, but there was no pain, no pleasure; just a feeling of fullness. Catching a glimpse of his face, she rationalized that it was different for him. His eyes were shut so tightly and his chest heaved; all signs of excruciating pleasure. Then he withdrew and invaded again in one fluid, smooth motion and the stimulation was instant.

She half-screamed his name but his mouth descended on hers, silencing her. Her body contorted, which amplified the pleasure. She was lost, wanted to say something, didn't know what to say, and settled for a relieved sob. Every strand of her stretched deliciously, every cell burning.

She clawed at him but her nails slid down his back, it was soiled with sweat. His hair was over his face, delicate tendrils framing his well bred features, magnifying the rawness of what they were doing. This was not civilized, this was not culture. This was beastly and sweaty and dirty and she loved it. Every time he withdrew and filled her with him it was a moment of absolution where everything was fine. There was no tea and no roses and no polite, blank looks between them. There was him with his eyes matching hers and his mouth molding hers and himself inside her. It was perfect.

She'd experienced them all; hate, love, jealousy, pain, ignorance, knowledge -- but this was such a contrast, it went so far beyond sex and pleasure that Saya just settled for hearing the erratic beating of her heart and the curve in his back where his spine was. She couldn't bring herself to do anything; there were a million colors and a million feelings and they made her want to stop breathing and die, here, in this exquisite moment.

He shuddered and collapsed atop her in a sudden moment, crushing her momentarily before gathering the strength to roll himself over, landing ungracefully next to her. She didn't care for the soreness between her legs or the stickiness on her body but then he draped an arm around her and pulled her to him and all the complaints that were rising in her throat evaporated.

She felt distinctly tired but not nearly enough to slumber, he too was awake, catching his breath. The thought that she'd tired him out brought a smile to her lips, a late but wide bloom. She didn't know what to say, what sort of conversation was to be had? Comparing notes was not an option. Making an appointment for another time, dislikes and likes...?

She decided to lean over and kiss him, a butterfly touch because she was ultimately spent.

"How can you," he paused, another breath. "I can barely move."

She laughed and he joined in. The silence became companiable again and Saya decided that she would rather like to do this again. Now that they were "experienced" there would be no awkwardness. She might have to fire her maid and let Hagi bathe her every day. That would, however, land them mostly in this situation and Saya did like to be clean.

"Saya?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think Joel might consider, well, you and I, since we've, and you wouldn't, and I--"

"Oh spit it out," but her tone was not unkind.

"You could be my bride."

There was a momentary pause before Saya propped herself up on one arm, ridiculously conscious that her breasts heaved with her and sharply retorted; "I hope that's a rhetorical question because if you think I'd give myself to just any man--"

But the look he gave her (confused, apologetic) silenced her and she settled for a thin reprimanding glare.

"Yes, of course I would be your bride. But we would live here because I rather like it here. Hagi, the rose gardens -- I couldn't give them up."

"I will give you your every desire."

The intensity was so great that Saya just collapsed as she released a winding yawn.

"Hagi?"

She murmured sleepily. His voice was drunk with affection; "Yes?"

"I'm still a better cellist."

And he laughed.

* * *

REVIEW PLEASE :D


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